


One Lace at a Time

by HeroMaggie



Series: Dreams [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders in a corset, Corset smut, Fluff, M/M, Relationship Talk, fits the series but is just a reason for smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 07:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4513407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post seeing Zevran on the coast, Anders is confronted with Fenris' jealousy and fears. A little talking and some more...intimate corset activity...helps remind Fenris that the mage is, indeed, only his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Lace at a Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lamenta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamenta/gifts).



> For Lamenta - because she wanted corset smut and I probably wasn't going to fit more into Freedom's Dream.
> 
> Fenris is never quite as happy as when he's shredding some of Ander's clothing...

Anders straightened the corset, tugging down until it sat just right on his torso. It was one of his older ones - a lovely jade green that Fenris had brought home shortly after they had reconciled. Fenris had asked him to wear that one specifically and had been growling softly during the lacing - usually one of his favorite activities.

Nothing pleased the elf more than lacing Anders into a corset - and then pulling him out of it. Usually while fucking him into the bed...or the carpet...or that one time they broke one of the side tables in the downstairs sitting room.

That time had resulted in Anders having to heal them both and Fenris carrying Anders to bed.

So the growling while lacing, while not necessarily abnormal, was a tip to Anders that something was going on. Something, perhaps, from their trip the coast and meeting Zevran. Because Fenris was possessive and had problems with communicating and Zevran was prone to flirting...

Anders’ tugged at one stocking and pondered.

Zevran had threatened him with bodily harm - which was normal considering the elf had thought him dead. Had flirted - which was normal considering Zevran was, well, Zevran. And had insinuated that Eavan wanted him back - which was interesting and terrifying.

So when Anders stepped into the bedroom to find Fenris pacing, still in his armor, he had an idea of what was going on.

“Fenris...love...can we talk?” Anders held up his hands as the elf advanced.

“Can we talk while I touch you?” Fenris prowled closer, eyes intent on the corset.

“No,” Anders crossed his arms over his chest. “No...I think we’d better do it now.”

The word no had Fenris stopping. He shifted and then sighed, drooping. “What can I say? I was jealous. I am jealous. And afraid. Afraid they will come and take you from me.” Green eyes lifted to meet Anders’ and they were filled with pain. “I...can’t…” he gasped.

“Fenris,” Anders rushed forward to gather him up. “I swear I’m yours. I swear it. They can’t have me unless they take you.”

“Mage,” The word was a plea, one Anders understood. Dipping down, he let his lips drift over the point of one ear, down and then up the neck and over to the elf’s lips - tasted and sipped and nibbled.

“Yes,” He whispered, lips brushing lips. “Yes, Fenris.”

***

Bent over the bed, Anders groaned as Fenris spread nibbling kisses over his shoulders, sucked right over his spine - just above the corset. Hands still encased in gauntlets gripped his hips while leather dragged over the back of thighs, breastplate brushing against the corset. Being so exposed while Fenris was still dressed was erotic, a turn on - a show of trust between them.

Growling, Fenris slid his hands down the corset, the tips of the gauntlet catching on the delicate embroidery. “I have grown tired of this one,” he mused.

“What?” Anders tried to peer around, eyes wide.

“Hush mage. Do you trust me?” Fenris pressed a light kiss right on the back of his neck.

“With my life,” Anders said without pause. “You know that.”

There was a hum and then the gauntlets hitting the bed. Anders didn’t move but blinked, the confusion turning swiftly back to arousal when he felt oil slide down his cleft, strong fingers massaging it into his lower back, over his ass, and then between - one finger pressing in and then two to scissor and stretch, dragging lightly over that one spot inside that made him whimper and see stars.

“Fenris,” He gasped, “More, please...oh Maker…”

Another hum and a third finger, more stretching, the elf leaning up as his fingers thrust into Anders - nibbling at one ear and breathing “You are so beautiful like this, bent over and begging, writhing, tightening around my fingers.”

“Please...oh please…” Anders thrust against the bedspread trying to get friction, “Fenris, please…”

The low laugh had him shivering, anticipation ratcheting up. There was the sound of armor hitting the ground, and then leather, and then Fenris was pressing close, thrusting, and both men gasped.

Fenris set a slow pace, his thrusts nearly languid, the drag driving Anders insane. He begged, moaned, pleaded for Fenris to speed up, to fuck him harder, take him deeper...anything. And all Fenris did was give another low laugh and reach for his gauntlets, tugging on one and dragging it back down the corset.

“I really am rather tired of this one,” He murmured, almost absentmindedly. His hips thrust tightly, speeding up a bit, and he plucked at the top lacing of the corset. It caught on the tips of his gauntlet and popped. Another low laugh, another deep thrust, and another lace snapped, the tip of the gauntlet dragging lightly over Anders’ skin.

He worked his way down the corset, keeping Anders right on the edge, varying the speed and depth of each thrust, till every lace had been popped, till the corset was spread open and the delicate scratches from the tips of his gauntlets were shown. Fenris purred, leaned forward, and dragged his tongue down Anders’ spine.

The choked gasp from the mage had him grinning against pale skin. Another gentle kiss, another slow stroke, and Anders’ toes curled and he came with a keening moan, body shivering as the pleasure washed over him in a wave, caught Fenris, and dragged him along.

Later, sprawled over his mage on the bed, Fenris pressed his face against pale skin and exhaled. “I am sorry.”

“For what?” Anders dragged his hands down Fenris’ back.

“For doubting you. For the jealousy...for the corset…” He pressed a kiss over Anders’ heart.

“Laces can be replaced,” Anders whispered. “But you can’t be.” Fenris’ head popped up at that. “Fenris, I love you. And if you think I’m going to let the wardens drag me away from you well...they’ll be short a healer again. I will not leave you. I swear it.”

“I love you too,” Fenris pressed his face back against Anders’ chest and smiled. “Did enjoy shredding the laces.”

“You have a problem,” Anders teased. “Ripping my clothes...shredding them...what will I do with you?”

Fenris thought for a moment and then looked up with puppy eyes, “Make me Orlesian toast and sausage for breakfast?”

Anders grinned, the last vestiges of the tension gone from between them. No matter what the future brought, he had sworn to love this elf...this man. And nobody, not even the Hero of Ferelden, could drag them apart.


End file.
